My old radio station boss was an EMT and my favorite story was when he was called to the boardwalk at Seaside Heights, NJ because a man went on the Roter ride (you stood against the wall and it spun you so fast that when the floor dropped out you stuck to the wall). A man’s vein burst in his leg and sprayed blood all over everyone there. The ride operator thought it was the normal screaming that happened every ride. When the ride stopped the man was passed out and the other riders covered with blood.
WOW!! That's wickedly sickening. Growing up in Toms River and spending plenty of my youth walking the boards in Seaside I'll never think of that ride the same way again. Thanks!
Yeah that was always a fun one lol. I could only imagine the blood splattered puking that resulted from that incident though! Pure Nightmare Fuel! Loved the Boardwalk in the Summer though, especially fried Zeppoli and Sawmill Pizza slices as big as your face. Awesome! I actually hail from Beachwood but of course went to HS in TR and spent my youth hanging out all over the area.
From now on, every time I hear that a celebrity died of autoerotic asphyxiation, Im going to assume that they turned the volume up too loud rather than the belt too tight. Technology!
PS: Digisexual is a thing now. I have a helluva real life story regarding this that I will share as fiction at some point, in addition to the monitor sex story already on me Substack.
Digisexual? Am I going to have to fill my google history with this search? I’m guessing you can only get off by pretending you’re a robot? T-800 wrestling with T-1000? Or is it fantasizing you’re Mr Jetson oiling up Rosey?
D. All of the above. The "D" pun is intended. Check out my story, its short, and hopefully funny. Spoke with a journalist who is currently writing an article about people who use electronics in the bedroom. App controlled vibrators, audio/visual stimulation from their phones, you name it.
Sometimes I wonder how good masturbating on the brim of life and death must feel that people are willing to risk their lives for it, whether it's a belt around your neck or electric current through the muscle tissues. The extravagant is always on the frontier.
I'm reminded of the final story in the French Dispatch, where the chef discovered a new flavor that he never experienced before in the poison that ended his life. Such beautiful irony and a hint of something so true. Eve biting the apple. Auto-erotic asphyxiation. Destruction and immense treasure coincide in the darkness that we are afraid of.
Props to Saint Gut-Free for living to tell the tale.
I was just telling a friend, today, about the Sweat Beaver.
In the first piece of writing that Rick ever brought to workshop, he depicted a hard-boiled cop. It was a chapter from a novel in progress. The lead character has torrid shower sex with his lady friend and buries his face in her "sweat beaver."
If a typo is going to happen, it will happen in the worst place possible. Rick had meant to write "sweet." That typo was in 1991? 1992?
Gosh! I love these masturbation going wrong stories. A few years ago, a man from my area was in everyone's lips, for being hospitalised after sticking a couple merling fish in his glory hole. Yes, merling fucking fish! Lol. What made it even funnier is that he was a Muslim Imam who leads prayer every day. The next Friday prayer after he recovered must've been so awkward. But, Moroccans are forgiving people, so he's probably fine now.
Another one but, I can barely remember the details cause it was a long time ago. At around 2005-2006, at a camping complex in Tangier for under-18s. The first day my parents dropped me there, a kid about my age told me that a few days ago, a kid in his early teens was on his way to juvenile prison, and one right now still at the hospital, with eternal damage.
What happened was, 3 or 4 kids ( 11 to 13 yrs young), late at night, would sneak into an empty tent to play 'taking turns' or 'husband and wife' or whatever its called in other places. Everything's okay, a perfectly harmless act. It's one of many extracurricular activities some kids do outside of school that now one wants to talk about. Anyway, one or two others knew about it, then all of a sudden everyone knew. A naughty little one had all the plans to ruin the adventures. At that night, he weaponized himself with a steaming hot steel skewer stick, probably used for lunch that day. He caught them in the tent, then shoved the steaming stick up one of the kids's butt, all the way up. If he survived it might have ruined him for life, the poor fella.
I have shared some of my military medicine stories with the people in the workshop. I think they enjoy them. I still think the quik clot one had the most impact.
I never even went over all the presidential stuff or the chemical weapons research going on near Medicine Hat, Canada or Aberdeen, MD. All the crazy stuff goes on up in Canada.
It's also hard to really know what claustrophobia is until you crawled across 4 football fields on your stomach through a concrete pipe that was so small that you had to push your medical bag in front of you while under several metric tons of concrete rubble. That was fun times in Oklahoma City.
In my junior high shop class, the instructor removed the spark plug and hooked a lawnmower engine up to the drill press, and taught us that amps can hurt you, but volts only shock you, and how long can you hold on?
8th grade me won that contest. Similarly, my dad had a device - a little box with wires and electrodes and a dial to control the voltage that was supposed to help with his back pain. My brother and I would borrow it and put the electrodes on our arms and do push ups, thinking we could short cut working out. Before long, we moved on from flexing to putting the electrodes on our face and see how far we could turn the dial. Like looking at Large Marge from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. But you had to be careful - both on your arm or your face, you turned the dial too far and your muscles would lock up and your only hope would be your brother - whose help was often painfully, tauntingly slow.
I think it would be easy to believe that people who do things like this are driven by a subconscious desire to hurt themselves or even die. The idea that they are just depressed makes it feel a little less depraved.
But the term “post-nut clarity” exists for a reason. People don’t always think clearly when they’re horny. Sure, these men were lonely, but I doubted they thought it would kill them. They were probably just tired of using their hands and wanted to try something new. Majority of people don’t misuse vacuums, stick cucumbers and jars up themselves, or engage with auto-erotic asphyxiation thinking that they’re going to get serious injured or die.
Weirdly enough, this post reminds me of your book Haunted (I’ll do my best to avoid spoilers). The characters in the book do horrible things to themselves, and they do it to such an extreme that it would be easy to believe they wanted to die. And while it’s true that they hoped each other to die, on an individual level what they really wanted was fame, money, and love. The pursuit of this pleasure and the belief they would be fine is ultimately what led to things getting as bad as it did.
Shocking.
Bahdumtsss
Salute you. Somebody had to do it.
You know -- some of these stories really are stranger than fiction. I don’t know if I could have made that one up.
Now I know what my plans for tonight include
My old radio station boss was an EMT and my favorite story was when he was called to the boardwalk at Seaside Heights, NJ because a man went on the Roter ride (you stood against the wall and it spun you so fast that when the floor dropped out you stuck to the wall). A man’s vein burst in his leg and sprayed blood all over everyone there. The ride operator thought it was the normal screaming that happened every ride. When the ride stopped the man was passed out and the other riders covered with blood.
WOW!! That's wickedly sickening. Growing up in Toms River and spending plenty of my youth walking the boards in Seaside I'll never think of that ride the same way again. Thanks!
That ride made me sick to my stomach! I bet people puked constantly. I lived in TR for a while!
Yeah that was always a fun one lol. I could only imagine the blood splattered puking that resulted from that incident though! Pure Nightmare Fuel! Loved the Boardwalk in the Summer though, especially fried Zeppoli and Sawmill Pizza slices as big as your face. Awesome! I actually hail from Beachwood but of course went to HS in TR and spent my youth hanging out all over the area.
I lived in Beachwood, too! We gotta tawk. If you grew up there in the 80s you probably know my cousins.
Nice! We had that ride -- called the "Round-Up" -- at the county fair each autumn. Centrifugal force kept the barf in your mouth.
Wait a minute, wait a minute. Was this particular activity ever a contender for ‘Guts’?
Guts Remix Guts Remix! Now this, and the Invisible Monsters Remix will be the only Chuck stories you havent read.
I can only read so fast!
S-top soun-ding out ev-er-y w-ord.
I'd considered using that in 'Guts' but it ends in death, and that didn't work.
Ah, gotcha. Cool to know it was a consideration though.
From now on, every time I hear that a celebrity died of autoerotic asphyxiation, Im going to assume that they turned the volume up too loud rather than the belt too tight. Technology!
PS: Digisexual is a thing now. I have a helluva real life story regarding this that I will share as fiction at some point, in addition to the monitor sex story already on me Substack.
Digisexual? Am I going to have to fill my google history with this search? I’m guessing you can only get off by pretending you’re a robot? T-800 wrestling with T-1000? Or is it fantasizing you’re Mr Jetson oiling up Rosey?
D. All of the above. The "D" pun is intended. Check out my story, its short, and hopefully funny. Spoke with a journalist who is currently writing an article about people who use electronics in the bedroom. App controlled vibrators, audio/visual stimulation from their phones, you name it.
https://occamsraisor.substack.com/p/you-can-tune-a-player-piano
Will do!
Sometimes I wonder how good masturbating on the brim of life and death must feel that people are willing to risk their lives for it, whether it's a belt around your neck or electric current through the muscle tissues. The extravagant is always on the frontier.
I'm reminded of the final story in the French Dispatch, where the chef discovered a new flavor that he never experienced before in the poison that ended his life. Such beautiful irony and a hint of something so true. Eve biting the apple. Auto-erotic asphyxiation. Destruction and immense treasure coincide in the darkness that we are afraid of.
Props to Saint Gut-Free for living to tell the tale.
Sent on to our favorite ex-cop!
Thanks Suzy. Now Suzy, Rick T, and I will have a reunion next Tuesday.
And hopefully Monica, too. Bring on the Sweat Beaver. (Inside joke.)
I was just telling a friend, today, about the Sweat Beaver.
In the first piece of writing that Rick ever brought to workshop, he depicted a hard-boiled cop. It was a chapter from a novel in progress. The lead character has torrid shower sex with his lady friend and buries his face in her "sweat beaver."
If a typo is going to happen, it will happen in the worst place possible. Rick had meant to write "sweet." That typo was in 1991? 1992?
Early 90’s. As in 30 years ago! How are we that old?
Gosh! I love these masturbation going wrong stories. A few years ago, a man from my area was in everyone's lips, for being hospitalised after sticking a couple merling fish in his glory hole. Yes, merling fucking fish! Lol. What made it even funnier is that he was a Muslim Imam who leads prayer every day. The next Friday prayer after he recovered must've been so awkward. But, Moroccans are forgiving people, so he's probably fine now.
Another one but, I can barely remember the details cause it was a long time ago. At around 2005-2006, at a camping complex in Tangier for under-18s. The first day my parents dropped me there, a kid about my age told me that a few days ago, a kid in his early teens was on his way to juvenile prison, and one right now still at the hospital, with eternal damage.
What happened was, 3 or 4 kids ( 11 to 13 yrs young), late at night, would sneak into an empty tent to play 'taking turns' or 'husband and wife' or whatever its called in other places. Everything's okay, a perfectly harmless act. It's one of many extracurricular activities some kids do outside of school that now one wants to talk about. Anyway, one or two others knew about it, then all of a sudden everyone knew. A naughty little one had all the plans to ruin the adventures. At that night, he weaponized himself with a steaming hot steel skewer stick, probably used for lunch that day. He caught them in the tent, then shoved the steaming stick up one of the kids's butt, all the way up. If he survived it might have ruined him for life, the poor fella.
Yes, that is "eternal" damage.
Miswordings are the best. Especially since i intended writing ''Internal'', it's just came out that way. Better I guess.
I have shared some of my military medicine stories with the people in the workshop. I think they enjoy them. I still think the quik clot one had the most impact.
I never even went over all the presidential stuff or the chemical weapons research going on near Medicine Hat, Canada or Aberdeen, MD. All the crazy stuff goes on up in Canada.
It's also hard to really know what claustrophobia is until you crawled across 4 football fields on your stomach through a concrete pipe that was so small that you had to push your medical bag in front of you while under several metric tons of concrete rubble. That was fun times in Oklahoma City.
In my junior high shop class, the instructor removed the spark plug and hooked a lawnmower engine up to the drill press, and taught us that amps can hurt you, but volts only shock you, and how long can you hold on?
8th grade me won that contest. Similarly, my dad had a device - a little box with wires and electrodes and a dial to control the voltage that was supposed to help with his back pain. My brother and I would borrow it and put the electrodes on our arms and do push ups, thinking we could short cut working out. Before long, we moved on from flexing to putting the electrodes on our face and see how far we could turn the dial. Like looking at Large Marge from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. But you had to be careful - both on your arm or your face, you turned the dial too far and your muscles would lock up and your only hope would be your brother - whose help was often painfully, tauntingly slow.
And now we have Violet Wands
That’s awesome! We gotta talk for sure. Yes I did grow up there in the 80’s so definitely a good chance I know them!
I think it would be easy to believe that people who do things like this are driven by a subconscious desire to hurt themselves or even die. The idea that they are just depressed makes it feel a little less depraved.
But the term “post-nut clarity” exists for a reason. People don’t always think clearly when they’re horny. Sure, these men were lonely, but I doubted they thought it would kill them. They were probably just tired of using their hands and wanted to try something new. Majority of people don’t misuse vacuums, stick cucumbers and jars up themselves, or engage with auto-erotic asphyxiation thinking that they’re going to get serious injured or die.
Weirdly enough, this post reminds me of your book Haunted (I’ll do my best to avoid spoilers). The characters in the book do horrible things to themselves, and they do it to such an extreme that it would be easy to believe they wanted to die. And while it’s true that they hoped each other to die, on an individual level what they really wanted was fame, money, and love. The pursuit of this pleasure and the belief they would be fine is ultimately what led to things getting as bad as it did.
And here I thought a radio was for listening to music. What kind of sheltered life have I led? #newperspectives